


result

by castielsass



Series: Therapy [8]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Adolescent Sexuality, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-12
Updated: 2014-06-12
Packaged: 2018-02-04 10:46:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1776295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castielsass/pseuds/castielsass





	result

Will’s breath came mortifyingly loud, echoing in Matthew’s bedroom with a harsh repetition that made it obvious what they were doing to anyone who cared to listen.  
  
Matthew found it hard to care anyway. His dad wouldn’t be home for a few hours at the least, and Will had come back from his session with Doctor Lecter looking dazed and ashamed.  
  
He didn’t ask, not outright, but a few days ago he’d stolen away to the building he knew Will went to and caught a glimpse of the Doctor. Achingly stylish, like he’d been born in a three-piece suit, reeking money.  
Matthew wasn’t common, but he was working-class. He’d spent time working on his voice, improving his enunciation and vocabulary, by reading constantly. He worked, but not hard labor.  
  
  
Still, he felt like trash when he looked at himself in comparison to the Doctor, baggy skinny jeans, an old black leather jacket and his work boots from his magician’s assistant closet.  
  
Anger boiled over. He felt the sincere urge to spit on the expensive marble step leading up to the Doctor’s office. But he hadn’t, had restrained himself and gone home, memories of the Doctor’s styled ashy hair countered with his own fuzzy black curls, the smell of money and luxury still stinging in his nose. Fuck him.  
  
Matthew could almost taste it, the curiosity the Doctor had for Will, like he was a particularly attractive butterfly he might pin. Tainted with wealth and arrogance and drama, the Doctor’s lust was heavy but almost indiscernible from his desire for luxury.  
  
He wanted to own Will like he would a vase, consuming and possessive. Will had come to him with tears burning in the back of his eyes and a fierce red flush of shame on the bridge of his nose and his ears. Matthew could smell the Doctor on him, heavy medical lubricant and vanilla warmth. He’d gotten the story out of Will the same way he got most things out of Will; by not asking.  
  
Will had crawled onto his bed, looking bereft when Matthew perched on the old office chair in his bedroom, fearing the worst. It wasn’t nearly as bad as he had thought, but he sensed Hannibal making a claim, testing almost.  
  
For a moment Matthew wavered, wondering if he would allow this or be bolder, stake a claim with a fierceness that even Will might notice. He cast the thought away. He wouldn’t even pretend that he could allow this.  
  
The story spilled out of Will like he didn’t even realise he was talking aloud, like he was a pipe venting words up at the worn white ceiling of Matthew’s bedroom, bouncing off the headboard and the golden crucifix and back at Matt.   
Hannibal had taken advantage of him, there was no doubt, but Matthew couldn’t prove it, not yet.  
  
Hannibal had woven a web tight enough that Matthew was afraid if he pulled on the wrong string the whole thing would either collapse on Will or carry him away. Matthew had waited until the story came out, curling around his feet like smoke. The examination, the stimulation, Will’s ashamed orgasm. Will was so embarrassed it almost made him angry, reeking self-hatred from every pore.  
  
Matthew climbed onto the bed, twining a hand in Will’s shirt and kissing him, an invitation and comfort at once. Will almost wept, pulling back enough to rub a fist over his own face and apologise.  
  
  
“You don’t apologise for that, it’s not your fault,” Matthew said fiercely. “Like the Doctor said; it’s a normal reaction. Be calm, you didn’t do anything wrong,” he said, although the words burned in his throat, tasting like ash on his tongue.  
  
“Really?” Will asked, genuine.  
  
“Of course,” Matthew said roughly. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”  
  
Will had sniffed a little, and Matthew let himself into him, pressing his fingers and his smell into Will as deep as he could. Will had another appointment in the morning, an emergency session called by his father.  
Matthew would make sure he’d walk in limping and satisfied, reeking of pleasure and Matthew.


End file.
